It did not escape Themis that she had walked into a mental match of Wizard's Chess. Or perhaps, the woman across from her didn't play a game of power, grappling for the reins of control. Perhaps it was possible that the hawk-like witch thought herself outside of such machinations. Maybe it was Themis who, after a life of carefully guarded control and months beside Samuel, mistook all things for negotiations of power; that, or a hostile takeover. She could not sit in the stone slab of a seat and not think the discomfort deliberate, that keeping guests uncomfortable was a tactic. Themis knew Professor Crowley seemed to disappear into her own world, but she was not so naive as to think the other witch was blind to the workings of the world. She was a woman, whatever her physical appearance, perhaps blood and money had made her path easier, but there was no possible way Morrigan Crowley was unaware of the games one had to play for respect and dignity in their society.
Themis logged every change in mannerism and noted that the unnatural stillness the other witch exhibited disappeared when she sat, her body seeming to lose some sense of decorum as she shrank into her seat. She fidgeted with nothing and for a moment, Themis was reminded of Eleanor Griffith and the obvious discomfort in her skin. It wasn't a lack of self-worth that had her colleague twitching; that Themis wouldn't believe. Morrigan Crowley just was. There was no better word for her presence, the signals she sent were conflicting and varied. It was almost aggravating, but Themis had always enjoyed a good puzzle.
"Knowledge is also powerful, which we both know can lead to worse than madness. That doesn't mean we ignore it and leave it for the megalomaniacs to hoard." Themis opined. She, at least, was incapable of letting such people go unchecked. Or so she hoped. An unfriendly voice questioned whether it was a matter too close to her to be seen objectively. Hadn't she delighted in the feel of her power running free? She'd nearly bled out in Samuel's laboratory as she got drunk on the taste of her magic. She was in no position to preach. Did her scar itch more, or was that a trick of the mind? It took effort to keep her hands folded in her lap. "While I loved Ancient Studies in school, my professor was far more interested in teaching for exams. There was very little room for proper exploration. That, and no one seems keen to let teenagers run unchecked through magic that can bend the world." That she added with a grin. It made all the sense in the world, but it limited knowledge and understanding, left too much unsaid to encourage further exploration. Themis wondered at how the subject had changed now that Professor Crowley was at the helm. "My question, Professor, concerns the living magicks." Themis reached into her robe pocket and produced a small phial of an easily identifiable red liquid. "My research has led me to references of blood magic. I would like to better understand the art before I move toward further experimentation." She watched carefully as she spoke, looking for any tells the other women may provide. Would this shock her? Alarm her? There was only one way to know.
Themis logged every change in mannerism and noted that the unnatural stillness the other witch exhibited disappeared when she sat, her body seeming to lose some sense of decorum as she shrank into her seat. She fidgeted with nothing and for a moment, Themis was reminded of Eleanor Griffith and the obvious discomfort in her skin. It wasn't a lack of self-worth that had her colleague twitching; that Themis wouldn't believe. Morrigan Crowley just was. There was no better word for her presence, the signals she sent were conflicting and varied. It was almost aggravating, but Themis had always enjoyed a good puzzle.
"Knowledge is also powerful, which we both know can lead to worse than madness. That doesn't mean we ignore it and leave it for the megalomaniacs to hoard." Themis opined. She, at least, was incapable of letting such people go unchecked. Or so she hoped. An unfriendly voice questioned whether it was a matter too close to her to be seen objectively. Hadn't she delighted in the feel of her power running free? She'd nearly bled out in Samuel's laboratory as she got drunk on the taste of her magic. She was in no position to preach. Did her scar itch more, or was that a trick of the mind? It took effort to keep her hands folded in her lap. "While I loved Ancient Studies in school, my professor was far more interested in teaching for exams. There was very little room for proper exploration. That, and no one seems keen to let teenagers run unchecked through magic that can bend the world." That she added with a grin. It made all the sense in the world, but it limited knowledge and understanding, left too much unsaid to encourage further exploration. Themis wondered at how the subject had changed now that Professor Crowley was at the helm. "My question, Professor, concerns the living magicks." Themis reached into her robe pocket and produced a small phial of an easily identifiable red liquid. "My research has led me to references of blood magic. I would like to better understand the art before I move toward further experimentation." She watched carefully as she spoke, looking for any tells the other women may provide. Would this shock her? Alarm her? There was only one way to know.
![[Image: Bka0H0x.jpeg]](https://i.imgur.com/Bka0H0x.jpeg)